


A Stór

by drowned_in_books



Category: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, It's Soft, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, as he should, god i'm soft for these two, halt calls will "son"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:34:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24264427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drowned_in_books/pseuds/drowned_in_books
Summary: Special shoutout to elizathehumancarrot, again the most wonderful beta the fandom could desire!These two are going to talk about their FEELINGS or so help me I will MAKE them. This fic is very soft and not at all angsty, AVERY, I am a fluff cutie with a heart of cotton candy and gummy bears.
Relationships: Halt O'Carrick & Will Treaty
Comments: 19
Kudos: 65





	A Stór

The last rays of sunlight faded behind the trees as Halt and Will sat on the verandah. Will felt wonderfully, wonderfully _safe_. Nothing could hurt him as long as Halt was here. The last of the birdsong faded away, only to be replaced by the chirping of the crickets. Will sighed, pulled his feet up into his chair, and tucked his blanket under his chin. Beside him, Halt looked up from his reports. “Alright, Will?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

The pair lapsed back into silence as Halt read through his reports and Will stared unseeingly the gathering twilight as his mind buzzed. He opened his mouth to speak, thought better of it, and closed it again. A few minutes later, he repeated the process, and then once more, before Halt finally broke the silence. “What’s your question, Will?”

“Ah. Errrrr well, why did you get banished? And how??”

Halt, eyes still on his reports, replied, “I’m starting to believe it’s physically impossible for you to ask one question at a time. So to answer the first, I got drunk in an inn and said the king was the product of a dalliance with a travelling hatcha-hatcha dancer. The second, well, I’m not sure you pay attention to your legal studies, but that technically counts as treason.”

“Well, I had heard that, but.. you don’t get drunk. Ever. And you like King Duncan, so I don’t understand why you would do that.”

Halt set the reports down on the table beside him as he twisted in his seat to face Will more fully, and, taking a deep breath, he spoke. “Crowley had me assigned to track down Foldar, but I had promised I’d come for you. I made my decisions.”

“You committed treason to come find me.”

“I keep my promises.”

Will whispered, in an appalled tone, “You could have been _executed._ ”

“Not likely. I weighed my options and took a calculated risk.”

“You lost your oakleaf!”

Halt looked pensive for a moment. That, above all else, had hurt the most. “I got it back.”

“Why though? Why all this risk? I’m just, me,” Will said, with a small hint of sadness in his voice. After all, he was only a Ward kid. No one cared about them.

“I promised, didn’t I?”

“I promised Jenny I’d never prefer Chubb’s cooking over hers, but I still like Chubb’s pies better. We don’t always keep our promises.”

“We all prefer Chubb’s pies. I have no idea what he puts in them. And I know that we can’t or don’t always keep promises, but, but this promise matters. I… I care about you.”

“I’m your apprentice; I’m your responsibility.”

“You’re more than that.” Halt took a deep breath as he looked out over the clearing, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “I will never, ever leave you behind, if there is breath left in my body.” In a quiet undertone, he murmured, “You’re my _son_.”

Suddenly, Halt found himself with a lapful of sniffling teenager, as Will wrapped his arms around the older man – his _father_ , his _dad_. Wetly, Will whispered, “ _Thank you.”_

“I can never replace your real father, your real parents. I wouldn’t want to, either, but I’ll always be here for you.”

“Even when no one else is?”

Halt wrapped his arms around Will and pulled him close, whispering, “Especially then, a stór.”

“You’re my dad, too, in your own way, you know.”

Halt smiled. “In my own way?”

“Yeah! You look out for me,” Will said as he nodded. In doing so, he gently whacked Halt’s chin, at which Halt let out the tiniest of snorts and held Will a little tighter.

“Someone has to. God knows you’re finding trouble wherever trouble can be found and making it if it’s not there already.”

Will scoffed, “I’m not that bad.”

“Yes, you really are. I’m right and you know it.”

“There is a distinct possibility you could be right.”

“Damn straight.”

Will laughed a little, and then laid his head on Halt’s shoulder. “Well thank you, anyways.”

“For what?”

“Looking out for me,” Will said softly.

Halt buried his face in Will’s hair, and whispered, “No, thank _you_.”

“For what?” Will parroted. “I’m getting into trouble all the time. I’ll give you more grey hairs than you already have.”

“The grey hairs are worth it, for a chance to be a father,” Halt said, and, though he would deny it in any court of law, he had a few tears running down his cheeks as he held Will, his _son_.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Halt thought back to that day, so many years ago, fighting Morgarath’s Wargals side-by-side with Daniel, and then holding him as he died. He remembered the search for his wife and farm, the terrible scene he discovered, and the feeling of holding a baby Will in his arms as he rode in the cool autumn sunshine. Family, in Clonmel, was discord, anger, and pain – his parents fighting, Ferris trying to kill him, the strain of trying to protect Caitlyn from the worst of it. But family here was Crowley’s incessant whistling, the Gathering’s barely controlled chaos, Pauline’s poised upward tilt at the corner of her mouth as she laughed at him, Gilan catching his toe on the step of the cabin in the _exact same_ way each time, and this, holding his _son_ in the evening twilight as they watched the stars twinkle into view. Family, in Araluen, was a treasure.

**Author's Note:**

> Be the change you want to see in the world, they said.  
> The change I want to see in the world is more father-son cuddling.
> 
> A stór means "my treasure" in Irish Gaelic, according to the interwebs!


End file.
